Come Lie With Me - Linda Howard [17]
While she was helping him to dress, a process that didn’t anger him as it had that morning, he said thoughtfully, “You’ll be spending most of your time dressing and undressing me, it seems. If this is the routine you’re going to be following it’ll save a lot of time if I just wear a pair of gym shorts; I can put on a robe before we eat, and Alberta can bring trays up here.”
Dione successfully hid her delight, merely saying, “That’s your second good idea of the day.” Secretly she was elated. From a practical standpoint he was right: It would save a lot of time and effort; however, it would also exclude Serena from most of their meals. That would be a big help.
If wasn’t that she disliked Serena; if she had met her under different circumstances, Dione felt that she would have liked Serena very much. But Blake was her concern now, and she didn’t want anyone or anything interfering with her work. While she was working on a case she concentrated on her patient to the extent that everyone else faded into the background, became gray cardboard figures rather than three-dimensional human beings. It was one of the things that made her so successful in her field. Already, after only one morning, Blake so filled her thoughts, and she was so much in tune with him, that she felt she knew him inside and out. She could practically read his mind, know what he was going to say before he said it. She ached for him, sympathized with him, but most of all she was happy for him, because she could look at his helplessness now and know that in a few months he would be strong and fit again. Already he was looking better, she thought proudly. It was probably due more to his anger than her efforts, but his color was much improved. He could stay angry with her for the entire time if it would keep him active and involved.
She was feeling satisfied with the morning’s work as she walked beside him into the dining room, but that feeling was shattered when Serena plunged toward Blake, her lovely face bathed in tears. “Blake,” she said brokenly.
Instantly he was alert, concerned, as he reached for her hand. “What is it?” he asked, a note of tenderness creeping into his voice, a particular tone that was absent when he talked to everyone else. Only Serena inspired that voice of love.
“The patio!” she wailed. “Mother’s bench…it’s ruined! They’ve turned the pool into a madhouse! It looks awful!”
“What?” he asked, his brows snapping together. “What’re you talking about?”
Serena pointed a shaking finger at Dione. “Her gym! They’ve torn up the entire patio!”
“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Dione said reasonably. “It may be disorganized now, but nothing should be torn up. Richard’s overseeing the installation of the equipment, and I’m sure he wouldn’t let anything be damaged.”
“Come see for yourself!”
Dione checked her watch. “I think we should have lunch first. The patio isn’t going anywhere, but the food will be cold.”
“Stalling?” Blake inquired coldly. “I told you, Miss Kelley, that I don’t want this house changed.”
“I can neither deny nor confirm what changes have been made, because I haven’t been outside. I’ve been with you all morning. However, I trust Richard’s good sense, even if you don’t,” she said pointedly, and Serena flushed furiously.
“It isn’t that I don’t trust my husband,” she began heatedly, but Blake cut her off with a lifted hand.
“Not now,” he said shortly. “I want to see the patio.”
Serena fell into immediate silence, though she looked sulky. Evidently Blake was still very much the big brother, despite his obvious ill health. His voice carried the unmistakable ring of command. Blake Remington was accustomed to giving orders and having them carried out immediately; his morning with Dione must have gone completely against the